Laundry Day
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Ziva and Jimmy spend time together while at the local Laundromat.


There was something about Laundromats that felt…well…off. They were hot, stuffy, poorly lit, and filled with people who would rather be anywhere else but there, shelling out money just to get their clothes clean. Through the glass of the washer doors one could see clothes—shirts, pants, dresses, underwear, socks—swirling about amid a sea of sudsy water in an almost hypnotic manner. Beside the washers were dryers which hummed and shook violently, almost dancing in their spots.

Jimmy sighed and dropped his basket on the chair. Laundry day. How he hated it. Two hours that could be spent doing more important things had to be spent sitting in this depressing place waiting for clean clothes.

He opened the washer and began dropping things in. Because he was a medical student and, therefore, was accruing much debt, he tried to save money by splitting his clothes up into just two categories: undergarments and outer-garments. They were washed separately and dried together.

His once-a-month laundry habits meant that, come laundry day, he had such a large amount of clothing it was difficult to fit it all in the washers. He pushed them down and closed the lids, starting up the two machines. Then he moved the basket and took a seat, settling in for a long two hours.

"Jimmy."

The voice made him jump slightly. Ziva was standing there, her own basket of dirty laundry in hand.

"Ziva," he said breathlessly, "what are you doing here?"

"I assume the same thing you are doing here," she said, slightly lifting her basket with a bemused grin.

He blushed. "Oh. Right." Of course she was here doing laundry, dummy. "I just didn't know you used this Laundromat."

"I do not usually, but my regular Laundromat is closed for the next couple of weeks due to a small flood they had. Someone pointed me in this direction."

She placed her basket on the floor in front of one of the washers and lifted the lid. "I was hoping I could spend the day doing something more productive," she continued as she began filling the machine, "but if I did not get this done today I would be forced to wear my bikini to work on Monday. I can only imagine what Tony would say to that."

Jimmy smile faintly. No doubt Tony would love to see Ziva forced to don a bikini for work. Though, he couldn't say he wouldn't love to see that as well, along with most of the male employees at NCIS.

"I suppose you would not mind seeing that either," she said with a smirk, as though reading his mind. Jimmy averted his eyes but didn't respond. "It is nice to have someone here to keep me company," she continued before closing the washer and starting it. "I try to bring a book to pass the time, but the other patrons are often so loud that I can never concentrate."

She fell into the seat beside him and placed her basket on the ground beside him. "And you?" she asked.

"Me?"

"Yes, how do you pass the time while doing laundry?"

He'd never really thought about it. Usually he either studied for his upcoming exams or he just sat there, staring into space, waiting for the tell tale buzz that let him know the laundry was done. "Nothing, really," he said with a shrug. "I just wait for it to be over."

"Well, perhaps today will be more entertaining for us both."

Jimmy nodded, though he fidgeted uncomfortably. He'd never been alone with Ziva. Anytime they were together, the others were with them. It's not that he feared her—though he was intimidated by her abilities and had not doubt she would easily lick him in a fight—but just that he wasn't sure what to talk with her about. With Ducky it was no problem as he usually did most of the talking. Tim and Abby were happy to discuss any areas of science, and with Tony all you had to do was give him a movie and he filled in the rest.

But Ziva was a bit of a wild card. He knew better than to discuss her family and he wasn't really interested in hearing her tell him about the things she'd done while employed by Mossad. All he knew about her, aside from that, was that she could cook. It was a safe enough subject.

"That dinner was really delicious," he said.

"Oh? And what dinner would that be, Jimmy?"

"Uh, the one you made for us when you first joined the team."

"You mean the one from four years ago?"

He nodded mutely.

"Well, that is quite an old subject to bring up now, but thank you," she said, a sparkle gleaming in her eyes. That gleam soon turned pensive. "Perhaps it has been too long since I hosted a dinner for you all, though. Now that I am working to become a citizen and have a new position at NCIS, I should celebrate with our team, yes?"

He didn't say it, but Jimmy felt a pang of pride when Ziva included him as a member of the team. Sometimes he felt like he was just on the outskirts of the team, hoping they'd one day deem him a true member.

"That would be great," he agreed. "And I could bring something so you don't do all the cooking yourself. I'm not really good in the kitchen, but I'm good behind a bar. When I was an undergrad I worked nights at the local bar. It wasn't much fun, but the tips were great."

Ziva's lips twitched upward in the start of a smile. "My, but you are full of surprises, aren't you?"

Now at ease, Jimmy was able to talk with Ziva about almost anything, save for the topics he knew not to bring up. They talked about the weather and about the rumored budget cuts. They even talked about the pretty brunette who'd dropped by NCIS a couple of days earlier to bring Tony his watch, which he'd left at her place.

"I give her a week before Tony has moved on to another woman," Ziva proclaimed.

"I don't know," Jimmy said as his washer beeped, signaling the end of its cycle. "He really seemed to like her. I think she'll be around for at least a month or two." He stood and opened the machine, gathering the soaked laundry. He placed it in his basket and looked at the dryers. Unfortunately, they were all full and most were still in progress.

"Guess I'll have to wait," he said as he sat down, the basket of sopping wet clothing at his feet.

Ziva, though, had other ideas. "That dryer stopped many minutes ago," she proclaimed, pointing to one of the dryers that was no longer moving. "If the owner of those clothes cannot be bothered to get his clothes out on time, then that is his problem. The rest of us should not have to wait." With that, she opened the dryer and pulled out the clothes, plopping them on top of an abutting washer. "There, now it is open for you."

Jimmy was grateful to have Ziva here. He would never have had the guts to do that. "Thanks," he said as he started loading his own clothes into the machine.

"Hey!" The shout cut through the air, visibly startling Jimmy. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

A burly man stomped over and stood toe-to-toe with him. Jimmy was a hair taller, but this man still out-weighed him in muscle.

"Who the hell are you to take my clothes out of the dryer?" he snarled.

"Uh…I…well…you…"

"Do not blame him," Ziva said, stepping between the two of them. "You did not return to your dryer in a sufficient amount of time to claim your clothing, forcing the rest of us to wait. I moved your clothing to free-up space for the other patrons."

"You've got no right to touch my clothing, sweetheart. I'll come back and get it when I damn well please. Now you," he said to Jimmy, "get your clothes out and put mine back in. I think they need another go-through."

Ziva's hand snapped up and grabbed his, applying pressure to it. Her face remained stoic while his turned an unattractive shade of red. He howled in pain, but she kept her grip. "You had plenty of time to tend to your clothing," she said calmly. "We do not need to wait just because you are lazy. When I let go of your hand, I want you to gather your things and leave. If you do not, I will have no choice but to defend myself against you. And believe me," she added in a hushed tone, "I am well aware in how to defend myself. Are we understood?"

"Yes!" he groaned as he tried to tug his hand from hers. "Just let me go you psycho bitch!"

"Don't call her a bitch," Jimmy said angrily. Bullying him was one thing, but he wasn't going to stand for seeing a man treat a woman that way, even if said woman could kill him with a paper clip. "You apologize!"

Ziva grinned. She hadn't intended to call the man on the derogatory name-calling, but she was pleased that Jimmy had. "Yes, I would like to hear an apology," she purred, adding even more pressure.

He squirmed. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! Just let me go!"

After a beat, she obliged, watching with satisfaction as the burly man recoil, holding his hand against his chest. He was still angry, no doubt, but he wasn't stupid. He did as she had told him and gathered his things quickly. With one final look of loathing, he stormed out, leaving a smirking Ziva and a shocked Jimmy in his wake, as well as a few startled patrons who took a couple of steps away from Ziva, just to be on the safe side.

"That was brilliant!" Jimmy gushed as the washer with Ziva's clothes gave a final buzz. "You handled that guy like nothing!"

She opened the washer and gathered her own things. "I have dealt with bigger, stronger men, Jimmy." She dropped her things a now available dryer. "Teaching him a lesson was like taking cake from a baby."

They picked up their conversation right where they'd left off as though nothing had happened and continued until their clothes were dry. Then, with good-byes and the promise that they would organize a team get-together, they went their separate ways. Jimmy placed his clean laundry in the backseat of his car before sliding into the driver's seat with a smile.

Who knew doing laundry could be so much fun?


End file.
